


Steam and conversation

by Kalibear



Series: Conversations [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 11:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15580980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalibear/pseuds/Kalibear
Summary: Molly takes care of Caleb after a harrowing battle.





	Steam and conversation

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of canon continuity, let's say that this takes place in an alternate timeline where the Nein only did the first mission for the Gentleman, returned to Zadash, and proceeded to live their lives out from there (aka Episode 26 never happened).

Caleb gave no sign of recognition as Mollymauk gently guided him into the Steam’s Respite. Mollymauk wasn’t even sure if Caleb was yet aware that they were back in Zadash. Earlier that day Caleb had had to burn not one but two people alive in defense of the party. They hadn’t been very good people, but that hadn’t stopped Caleb’s memories from overwhelming him.

Luckily over the time the party had been together they had discovered a variety of methods of easing Caleb back to the present—methods a little more effective and less self-destructive than Beau’s initial remedy of booze. When they were out and away from civilization the Nein would all take turns sitting and talking to Caleb until he felt up to responding. When they could, though, Molly preferred his own method.

“Ah, Mr. Tealeaf, welcome back.” Miss Rima’s eyes flicked over to Caleb. “Room six is available and fully stocked, if you’d like to head down the hall. Would you like the usual refreshments?”

 _Thank the Moonweaver for perceptive proprietors_ , Molly thought. “Molly, please, Miss Rima dear. And yes, thank you. We’ll also need to have all of this cleaned.” He tugged at his shirt with the hand not holding Caleb and winced as it stuck to his skin—from sweat or blood, he didn’t know, nor did he want to. He was just glad that the ride back to Zadash had dissipated most of the smoke and ash and cooked meat smell that had clung to Caleb.

“Very well Mr. Tealeaf, that will be one gold and six silvers for the both of you.” Miss Rima smiled softly. “Just set what you need washed in the basket by the door and we will see to it.” Molly gave her two gold and guided Caleb down the short hall.

Shutting the door to room six behind them, Molly took a moment to shrug out of his coat and hang it on one of the hooks on the wall. As much as he liked Miss Rima and her establishment he would clean his coat himself later. He took off his boots, tossed his disgusting socks into the basket, and loosened the ties on his shirt. He could strip off the rest after he took care of Caleb.

“All right, my dearest one, it’s long past time to get you out of these clothes.” Molly smiled gently and spoke softly as he started to ease Caleb’s coat off. His heart clenched as he felt Caleb shivering. “And didn’t I say something similar to you the night I finally convinced you to come to bed with me? Now that is a night I will not soon forget! Not the first time I saw you blush, but I hadn’t known just how far down it went. You were so beautiful in the lamplight, I thought I must be dreaming.”

Mollymauk was grateful for his ability to let his mouth run on while his head was elsewhere. He kept up a soft patter of soothing bullshit as he slowly undressed Caleb—making sure to either be touching or in Caleb’s eye line at all times. Sometimes Caleb’s nightmares were less than gentle when they let him go and he had, on occasion, reacted violently when startled. All of Caleb’s things went into the basket by the door except for his book holster. This Molly hung right next to his colourful coat. He grabbed one of the plush towels reserved strictly for the private baths—the larger, cheaper pool the team had first used was stocked with smaller, rougher linen—and draped it over Caleb’s shoulders while he quickly shed his own clothes and tossed them all into the wash basket.

Along with the better towels, the private rooms were equipped with a brazier topped with an iron kettle as well as a barrel of water so the occupants can add hot water to their own baths as needed. The floor in front of the tub was smooth wooden slates with gaps for the water to drain. A small bench held a variety of soaps, oils, and lotions as well as soft cloths for washing. Molly didn’t know if it was kindness or fussiness on Miss Rima’s part for directing them to one of the rooms that offered customers the option to wash before soaking, but he was grateful nonetheless. He resolved to give her an extra gold regardless of her motives.

Caleb’s eyes were still frighteningly blank as Molly guided him to sit on the edge of the tub. The bath water was steaming and Molly was starting to sweat in the small room, but shivers chased each other over Caleb’s thin frame and he hugged himself when Molly’s hands left him. “Now, darling, you sit right there like a good lad. Just let me take care of you, okay? Let’s see what Miss Rima has on offer for us here today, shall we?”

Molly took a deep breath to steady himself as he pretended to look through the soaps. He already knew which he would choose. There had been an evening when Caleb had been engrossed with a new spell and declined to go with the group to the Steam’s Respite. Molly had wanted more than a simple soak and had asked Miss Rima for anything new she might have in the way of soaps or bath oils. She had given him a small bar of pale orange soap that had smelled good enough to eat. Infused with the bright, fresh scent of fruit from the southern lands, Molly had happily paid the exorbitant cost for the soap. His investment had paid off when they got back to the tavern and the scent had distracted Caleb from his reading, resulting in a very good night for Mollymauk.

Right now Caleb needed all the happy memories Molly could give him. “You terrified me, you know. When we first met. I know you think I hated you—and I told myself that it was contempt or pity, but it was fear. I had thought it weak, weak and foolish to burden oneself with the past.” Molly babbled as he filled a washbasin with hot water, refilled the kettle and stoked the small brazier to heat the water. He tested the water, added in cooler water from the barrel until the temperature was just right, and soaked a soft cloth. He sat beside Caleb and started to gently scrub the sweat, soot, and blood from Caleb’s face. “And there you were, a man chained to his memories, wearing your truth like you wore that big, dirty coat. Remind me that I owe Jester for convincing you to get a new one. I was starting to fear that it would come to life and smother you one day, like that rug that got Nott and Beau. Plus—for some odd reason—people seem more inclined to give you money when you look like you don’t need it. And having money is quite nice, isn’t it, darling?” He moved the cloth over Caleb’s neck, behind his ears, down the length of each arm and back, pausing now and then to rinse the cloth and moving as needed to best reach every speck of grit and grime. “But where was I? Ah, yes, there you were, daring the world to look under the dirt and shit, and terrified that anyone would. And I thought, _stupid bugger, hanging on to what’s dead and gone, scared of his own shadow._ And then time and time, I watched you step up despite your fears, I saw how kind you were, even when you had been treated so cruelly. You made me question myself, love. And that is what I hated. Not you, but the uncertainty you brought out in me. You made me realize that all my bullshit wasn’t for other people, that it was all just a smoke screen between me and the void of my past. Or my lack of one. You didn’t want to be seen, wanted to disappear, and I demanded that people look because I was afraid that otherwise I would become nothing again.”

There was a soft knock on the door and Molly gave Caleb’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before rising to answer it. A young boy was there balancing a covered platter, a chilled pitcher and two fine cups on a wooden tray. Molly took the tray and gave the boy the basket of laundry and a silver before closing the door and turning back to Caleb. The tray went on a small table within reach of the tub. By now, the water in the basin was looking more like one of Jester’s inks so Molly dumped it through the slats of the floor and refilled it, setting the kettle to heat again. Taking a fresh cloth, he knelt at Caleb’s feet and began once more to wash his lover. Caleb still hadn’t spoken, but his eyes were starting to track Molly’s movements. Still, Molly kept both his voice and his movements soft and soothing.

“So I kept my distance, only interacting with you if I had to. But you were there, always there, and I couldn’t stay away, couldn’t stop watching you. I told myself that I was waiting for you to crack, that sooner or later I would have to step in and pick up the pieces. Instead I watched you keep getting stronger, not just magically, but you were opening up to the others, starting to rely on us, to trust us, telling us about what happened to you. On your own—not forced to, like I had to. And you know what? Now that I think about that, I don’t owe Jester for your coat. I mean, fuck it, the zone of truth happened, we can’t take that back, but that was not how I would have chosen to tell you all. Although maybe if she hadn’t done that, we might not have become an us. And I wouldn’t change that for the world, love. There’s still some loose ends out there for me, but I’m not as afraid of what I might owe that past when I know that I’ll have you with me. Now, dear one, come here, stand for me, get in the bath, and start your soak. That’s it. Lean back, let me start scrubbing that beautiful hair of yours.”

Once he was done washing Caleb’s hair—making sure to massage Caleb’s head and neck—Molly set a folded towel under his neck and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Close your eyes, love, enjoy the heat. I’ll be in to hold you once I’m clean.” Molly refreshed the basin again and started to quickly wash himself.

At the sound of a moving body and displaced water, Molly looked up to see that Caleb had shifted in the tub so he could still see Mollymauk. Somehow, he looked more exhausted with all the grime gone, but he was present in a way that he hadn’t been for hours. “There you are, sweetheart. No, no, don’t try to talk. Here, let me get you a drink.”

Molly poured some of the fruit juice and honey mixture into one of the cups and passed it to Caleb. He would have ordered wine, but he knew that both of them would prefer a clear head. Caleb drank slowly, allowing Molly to keep a hand on the cup as he did. He held up a hand when he finished the juice and Molly made to refill the cup. “Nein.” He coughed and his accent was thick. “Slower.”

“What’s that, my dear?”

“You. Go slower.” Caleb’s voice became clearer as he spoke. “You like to care for me. I like watching you care for yourself. Wash slower.”

Molly sat back. “You want to watch me wash? You kinky little fucker.”

“For you, _ja_.” Caleb smiled. Molly gave him a kiss on the forehead before turning to add a little more hot water to the basin and setting more to heat. Caleb was still shivering slightly, and while Molly knew that it was more from exhaustion than being cold, he still wanted to keep the tub warm. Dipping a cloth into the warm, fragrant water, Molly slowly drew down along one arm before sliding it back up and across his chest. He couldn’t deny that the hot water felt good, and the cloth, while soft, was textured enough that it scratched the itch of sweat off his skin. He switched hands and repeated the motion before rinsing the cloth. He exaggerated every movement, enjoyed in each sensation, and basked in Caleb’s gaze. Each finger, each toe, each dip and fold of his body got its own bit of attention, and while his cock grew heavy, there was no urgency, no impulse to change the mood from sensual to sexual.

Early on in their relationship—when they had been the only two of the Nein not to realize that it was more than just physical—there had been plenty of arguments when Caleb’s independence and self-loathing had collided with Molly’s generosity and carefree lifestyle. Caleb would refuse to let Molly buy him gifts and didn’t understand why Molly would be hurt by this. It took Jester and Beau tricking them to be in the same room after a particularly bad fight and Yasha guarding the door while Fjord awkwardly mediated a conversation. Nott provided the alcohol. All of the Mighty Nein were a bit scarred by the experience, but Caleb and Molly were able to reach a better understanding. Molly no longer pushed Caleb to match his own levels of hedonism and Caleb accepted that it made Molly happy to give him things. And while Molly still thought the logic of Caleb’s “I can’t enjoy this for my own sake, but I can when it’s because you enjoy me enjoying it” attitude was completely ridiculous and ass-backwards, he recognized that it currently didn’t do any good to tell that to Caleb and he just made more of an effort to share as many nice things and to create as many good memories for Caleb as he possibly could. And he hoped that this memory—the memory of Molly stroking and teasing himself with the warm water and soft cloth—would eclipse the memories from the battle they had fought earlier that day.

For a dramatic finale, Molly filled the basin one last time—and giving Caleb a wink—tipped the whole thing over his head before tossing his dripping hair like a wet dog and grinning fiercely. As he hoped, Caleb let out that small chuckle that would be a loud laugh on anyone else. “Are you clean enough to join me, liebling?”

“Never!” Molly snapped his teeth in Caleb’s direction. “But I’ll happily be filthy with you. Just let me add some more hot water to the tub. You’re still shaking.”

Caleb looked like he wanted to argue, but one of the agreements that had arisen out of The Day of Too Many Feelings—as Beau like to refer to it—was that Caleb was not to say that he was fine when he was not. The correlate to that agreement was that Molly was not to fuss when Caleb did assert that he was fine. Of course, they were both still assholes who believed that they were right more often than not so there were still plenty of arguments, but at least now the rest of the Nein had existing precedent to refer to.

When the tub was topped off and hot enough to suit, Molly slid in and pulled Caleb onto his lap. Jester had taken care of all of their injuries, but the ride back to Zadash had been plenty stressful and even more than the hot water, Molly craved contact to sooth the last of his own aches and pains. Besides, having Caleb on his lap meant that it was easier to feed him pieces of fruit and cheese from the platter without Caleb realizing that Molly was giving him two pieces for every one that Molly took for himself. Years of poverty had left Caleb accustom to eating the bare amount to survive, but Molly knew that magic burned more energy than Caleb would admit. And Molly had no problem asking the inn to prepare him a late supper while Caleb would starve before thinking of inconveniencing anyone. So here, while he had him captive, Molly would feed Caleb as much as he could while distracting him with ridiculous stories from the circus. More than half of the stories were complete bullshit—and they both knew it—but Molly’s voice soothed Caleb and meant that he felt no need to speak and Molly could release some of his own stress and pent-up worry by making up wilder and wilder lies. And when he wasn’t feeding Caleb or gesticulating to illustrate a story, Molly was running his hands all over Caleb, chasing away the last of those shivers and grounding them both.

The water was starting to cool again and there were only crumbs on the platter when a soft double knock signalled that their clothes were ready and outside the door. Caleb allowed Molly to help him out of the tub, but insisted on drying and dressing himself. It made Molly’s hands twitch a bit, but he didn’t argue. He knew that going out in public was its own battle sometimes for Caleb and he wasn’t just dressing, but putting on the armour he needed to face the world. Later, he might let Mollymauk fuss more, let himself be held, but for now, he needed a certain distance. Caleb settled his coat over his book holsters and Molly went to open the door.

“Wait, please.” Caleb took a step closer to Mollymauk and placing his hands on either side of his face, kissed Molly softly on the mouth. “You are too good to me, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

“I am exactly as good to you as you deserve, Caleb Widogast. Now come on, we paid for a room at the Pillow Trove and after four nights of sleeping on the ground, that bed is calling my name.” Mollymauk held out his hand and sent a prayer of thanks to the Moonweaver when Caleb smiled and took it.

**Author's Note:**

> All the thanks to Bluroux for beta reading :)


End file.
